


Idle Hands

by Leshan



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:39:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3783628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leshan/pseuds/Leshan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lestat has always loved to perform in public or private. An audience is an audience, right or wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Inspiration

Night had fallen and we were lying together the way any mortal couple might do, savoring the silence and one another’s company before our “day” began. We had attended a gallery soiree the night before and I hadn’t declined the invitation to stay with him at Maison chêne given that we didn’t get there until nearly dawn. When we settled into bed, sleep had claimed us without preamble and for a change, he woke before me. Pressed close behind me as I lay on my side, the pressure of his arm and the trail of his fingers on my chest drew me from a dreamless sleep. I stirred and drew in a slow, contented breath as I savored his touch. Of course he knew I was awake as I might have known if our positions were reversed. There is a shift in chemistry perhaps, and with us, a greater relaxation from the rigidity of the death sleep. Still, from behind he could not see as smiled for the tenderness he offered without a word. At least so far as words, “Mm,” was all I heard as he brushed my hair aside and kissed along the exposed length of my neck to behind my ear. I closed my eyes, almost as if I were going to fall asleep once more and let his affection become part of a lovely dream. The problem is that all he was really doing is making me want him in a way greater than what the outcome would surely be tonight. I should explain that when I make love to Louis even after all this time, it is never the same and never ever routine. All of my senses switch to overdrive and it becomes a sort of metaphysical magic where the each millimeter of my skin memorizes touch, taste, scent and sound. I’m not complaining about that ability in the least – but when I haven’t made love to him in awhile those sensations can come tumbling out all at once and be deliriously overwhelming. So as I lay there quietly my mind was drawn to remembrance of various heated nights, positions and touches that weren’t nearly as innocent as his fingers which now played against my shoulder. I pushed back against him automatically and was rewarded with a teasing little grind. I no longer cared who made love to whom; it was no longer a question of pitching or catching – I just wanted nine innings. He traced a line along my spine and circled that finger upon my hip before inching his hand farther toward what was quickly awakening upon my body, down then along my stomach and almost, almost… before moving slowly away. I held in a sigh as I moved away and sat up on the side of the bed.

“I’m going to get going.” I said quietly. I looked over my shoulder to see him reclined on the pillow; Louis has never been acutely self-aware and as such, he doesn’t intentionally put forth that look of soft desire, but make no mistake, it’s there at all times when he looks at me, even if like now, he is perplexed by the shift in my mood.

I collected my jeans off the dresser and pulled them on without further explanation. What more could I say really? Louis and I had been back in one another’s sphere for over a year now without actual complete lovemaking. Add to this fact that before this, I was off in Italy for three years, so I haven’t been with my One True Beloved in over four years. I can hear everyone now, Louis included asking “Well, _whose_ fault is that, Lestat?” and I’ll readily admit it’s my own. I’m quite certain Louis would much rather have had none of those four years happen and instead had me in bed with him so we might find infinite new ways to pleasure one another. I know, I know.

As I put on my shirt, he rolled onto his back and contemplated the plaster medallion above the bed. “If there’s something I did wrong, please tell me.”

 _Merciful guilt indeed_. “Nothing you did, beautiful.” I brushed my hair back and slipped into my sandals.

“Lestat,” I watched in the cheval mirror as he sat up in bed. A mortal man could not sit upright that slowly without struggling, and I thought for a second that it was just one of those many fascinations I would never tire of in this life. “Don’t go. Let me get dressed and we can…”

“Not tonight,” I shook my head gently. “I’m going to head back to the townhouse. I’ll call you later perhaps.”

He drew his mouth to a perfect, expressionless line and simply watched me until there was little else to do but give him a half-smile and take my leave. I did not want to give him the impression I was angry with him, because that was inaccurate. I was simply growing impatient with the teasing physical maneuvers, and if that’s how it was going to go when we were together, maybe being in separate locations was better. It sure as hell would be less torturous. Again I can hear the questions, “What’s the big deal? Is that what you need to show you love him or that he loves you?” No, of course not – I mean in the end it’s simply mechanics. Ah now isn’t that a nice way for me to say where you put your cock makes little difference so long as the cock feels appreciated and finds release? My dirty French heritage shines through, eh?

My mood was growing surlier as I walked past the bars on Bourbon. Is that what I was looking for really? Don’t be stupid, voice in my head: It’s not like in these past few years, I haven’t found just that with notable partners and if the climax was what mattered, then yes, I could duck into any of these places and find someone to lend me a hand, most willingly I’m sure. No, it was far more than that, especially when it came (pun intended) to making love with Louis. Since the very first time we’d shared our bodies with one another, it had been much more like…

A drunken young lady nearly fell to the ground as she backed into me off the curb and I caught her out of surprise. She gasped and then laughed in the way only a drunken tourist can do. Maybe a bit of naïve, spirited blood was just what I needed. I twirled her in my arms, laughing and playing along: Oh yes, oh yes, aren’t we all silly and in love with this crazy city, my darling stranger? I pressed her up against the bricks and let that dark laughter move down along her throat. No one paid us any mind. There were some gentlemen that felt inclined to put on their own little balcony show, and it was far more interesting to that particularly crowded corner than two anonymous heterosexuals making out against the building, and making out we were. She kissed me with brazen urgency and I easily loosened her breast from its loose confines. When she moved her hand to undo my pants, I leaned down and played my tongue across her nipple before sucking it in against my teeth. Her hand forgot its intended target and instead clutched at my hair as I released the tease of my mouth and pushed her weighty breast upward, thumbing the wet, air-cooled nipple just before my teeth pierced the soft mound of flesh in my hand. I pulled the warm, salty blood into my mouth and swallowed slowly, enjoying it as a stressed out businessman would enjoy the first trickle of scotch at the end of his day. Oh the taste of it so sweetly complex: thinned by alcohol, quickened by the exhilaration of her impulsive move with this strange guy – something she’d never do back home. Sure, darling, sing it to the night. This city’s heard it all before. I took one long last drink and then sealed the wounds effectively with teasing swirls of my tongue that left her breathless. When I rose up and looked into her eyes, it took but a second for sobering fear to replace her lust. She cleared her throat and immediately got her luscious breast back in the properly covered place while stammering that she had to go. But of course, I said in my best, blood-tipsy, theatrical voice. I gestured grandly and she slipped past me like a frightened mouse given pardon by the cat, or in this case, the lion. I spun around on one heel and headed home.

Yes, the drink helped, just as it would have helped the stressed out businessman. Was I stressed out? Not anymore baby, I was smooth. The little drink triumphed once again, and that foul, angry horniness was tempered into a knowing, warm desire. It might have been easily provoked had I gone back to Louis. I may in fact have insisted and demanded for some form of release, but I found my feet firmly planted on Royal Street, and soon enough moved through the darkened house, up the stairs to the media room to another fortuitous source of release: Music.

I picked out a classic blues vinyl that Brian unwisely left lying in the foyer one evening, forgotten as he tended to other details. He’d know where to find it and it wasn’t as if I didn’t plan to give it back. A soft, familiar thrill as the unique scratch and hiss came through the speakers. I opened up the window closest to me and delighted in the river-scented breeze. Across the city, Louis was likely tending to mundane tasks – his to-do list seemed unending at times, but perhaps it was to keep his mind off of what he really wanted. Louis wasn’t fooling me at all; He knew what our lovemaking was in the very same way I knew. It was the soaring entwining of our spirits and every other grandiose description you could come up with for such a thing that defies description in the first place. I slowly removed my shirt as I stood by the window, distracted with the thought of him. Maybe he had chosen to lie there in bed and I quite liked to picture him in such a way. In fact, watching Louis sleep was something I enjoyed very much. I didn’t often get the opportunity now that we were living apart and he had flat out balked at my half-joking suggestion that we set up his laptop to record him during the day so that I might enjoy it at my leisure. The look on his face after he realized I was considering such a thing was rather hilarious. He firmly stated that while I might have a love affair with the camera, he was no such exhibitionist and gave me a look so stern that it would have started a fit of laughter had I not turned away.

I tossed my shirt on the chair and sat down on the long, black leather sofa. I was wishing I’d taken a deeper drink, or snagged another before calling it a night. Sony Boy Williams launched into Mellow Blues, and appropriately, I lay my head back and closed my eyes. I could feel the power of the blood waning but I listened to its song too, until the last swirling instance of itself was spent. I thought again about Louis’ stern face, and this time I did break into laughter. What did he think I was going to share videos of him online? Would I doodle and insert typography at his expense? As much as anyone would pay to see it, I surely wouldn’t. Now if it was he who asked to make such a video of me, hell, I’d allow it even if he said he wanted to put it online. Maybe that is exhibitionist, maybe it’s vain, but I’ve always thought why the hell not, right? And I can tell you this much, if I was going to make a video for him, it damn sure wouldn’t be of my slumbering form. I’d be more likely to put on some appropriate bump and grind music and give him something truly entertaining.

I opened my eyes and listened more intently to the riff of Delta blues that filled the room then sat up on the edge of the sofa as a slow, smartass smile came to my lips.

I went to get the camera. 


	2. And... Action

After I’d tinkered with the tripod and set the whole thing up at the perfect height and angle, I selected some more music – I mean, I wouldn’t the soundtrack to fall out midpoint through the production. I would find that distracting enough to pause, even at a critical moment, so no, let’s be sure. I switched from vinyl to my favorite Internet station. The room was filled with slow, down tempo lounge beats as I slipped out of my pants and stood for a moment to consider my presentation. Of course, it wouldn’t be anything new for Louis to see me pleasuring myself. When you’re partnered with someone for as long as we’ve been together, you have to keep it interesting – and no, I’m not going to disclose all the variations, although such details would make for a much better book than some you’ve read lately to be sure.

On the sofa once more, staring at the waiting dead eye of the camera lens, I lay my head back and caressed slowly down my chest. I’m always thankful for the fact that if I had to be reborn eternally, that it was done at the prime of my life when my body was in magnificent condition. My torso was smooth and lean, chiseled but not unnaturally. At the time of my making, my health had been impeccable considering – or perhaps because of living in an age free of modern interventions. I clicked the remote and the camera awoke. Trailing my fingers slowly, down toward my hips and that curve right there that Louis loved to kiss … the muscular indentation at my lower abs that led downward. I looked at him from where I imagined him, there on the other side of the camera. Do you see anything you like, my darling? Mm, come closer then. I smiled as my body responded; my legs spread slightly inviting him in as my hand pressed against that which was so easily aroused. Let me tell you something, darlings: There are those who believe our kind have no interest or ability toward such mechanics – and I like to call those people, ‘wrong’. Let me say that drinking blood is essential, and far exceeds sexual need – it is in itself a sort of sexual need, to get the essence, the vital prana energy into our bodies. Does it even compare to sexual arousal and completion? Perhaps in some ways, but that’s not a discussion to be had when I’m sitting here in such a way, damn glad that what my hand holds does work. Can you imagine me if it didn’t? I’d be even more unbearable. 

Mm, and I was also thankful for the fact that I was deliciously intact; the flesh there sliding back to expose a yearning eagerness. Yes, I know, I wish it were his mouth too. Increase the pressure, the grip a bit more… fully down as I faced my imaginary lover with a slow smile. Let it rest upon my belly: give him a view to savor.

One hand trailing upward over my chest again… raising the tiny blonde hairs he loved to trail his lips against. Shiver at the thought… nipples hardened. Tease them as his tongue would in circles, with a soft graze of his teeth. 

Once more tracing the underside of the needful organ that lay waiting, I knew what he’d do. Right there he’d place his mouth, just at the tip as he shifted his weight and attention there… take me in his hand, yes, just like this and carefully, tenderly lower himself to draw me in. Ah yes, the feel of his tongue against the growing demand, my fingers in his hair as he begins his own rhythm and to know his every focus upon me and in it, his own need for me. Yes, Louis… yes. 

I slid deeper down onto the cushions and opened my legs just a little wider to move one hand where his would fall… between them to explore, caress and hold. His long, elegant fingers slipping lower, sliding into the cleft then as his mouth moved upon me. I loved to watch him and he knew it. He would glance at me from under the fall of his hair, his eyes clouded with desire as he wordlessly affirmed our mutual enjoyment. That’s right baby, so good isn’t it? I’d brush back that raven hair and hold it tight as he took me fully in and nuzzled the soft, sandy curls at the base. He’d pull off me slowly and let his tongue take over, moving around and into the short cuff as he worked it up over the head, swirling there as his hand gripped and moved me steadily. 

My eyes closed as I simulated his touch. Louis, my Louis… a shudder, the catch of my breath as it came so close, then biting my lip and looking once more into the lens as I backed off. Once again, let him have a view of what he did to me – even when he wasn’t actually present. But he was… and I looked at that indifferent recorder as if my lover were trapped inside. Oh, how I want you. I thought – but he knew how much I wanted him, and I knew… I knew even in his resistance that he wanted me more than ever. I wanted to fill him, to receive him, to give and take the sweet, pain of our lust and life together. Yes, how I wanted… unceasingly.

Take me there, I’d plead… and I’d receive a knowing smile of intent as he hinted his teeth against me. Should I ask again? Ah but I would ask a hundred times for the pleasure of his mouth upon me, for his cat-like tongue and the pressure of his fingers as they stroked and urged forth that which he yearned to taste.

Staccato breath with eyes closed; every sensation painted on my face as the peak approached. Everything focused right there in crazy, overwhelming intensity, no stopping… no … stopping.

Released  
In an  
Indescribable, rapturous interval.

And he was there, moving over me, against me, his lips to mine so lovingly, his thumb tracing my mouth even as he kissed me, fragrant and flavored with that intimate elixir. 

I kept my eyes closed, lost to the sensation, moving slowly to the languid beat of the music. My hand once again trailing up onto my belly, tracing through the fluid there and I smiled at the alchemy of pleasure, uncaring of any camera or audience. 

Before I could doze off, I shook my head to clear the drowsy, post-climactic haze. I sat up on the edge of the sofa, ran a hand through my hair and gave the camera one last glance that said, “There you go, did you like that?” and clicked the remote to end the evening’s show. I certainly enjoyed it.

I stood and went once more to the window. If he’d really been here, if he’d really just taken me in his mouth and brought me to release, chances are that he have then turned me around to brace against the back of the sofa and my arms locked as I pushed back against his thrusts. I closed my eyes again and exhaled slowly as the image came all too clearly to my mind. Such tormenting visions these were, when he was across town, doing whatever. I could only hope he was similarly bothered. The thought of that brought a soft laugh as I set to the business of transferring the video to a secure place on the web. There it would wait as a wicked little secret until I sent it along to his phone. 

**********

Several nights later he called me early in the evening to ask if I was certain I wouldn’t care to join him at the political fundraising dinner. He was already on his way, but said he’d wait for me if I’d changed my mind. The cause was important and worthwhile, but the chairwoman was an utter bitch and on our last encounter, I’d muttered all the way home that if I had to endure her presence again, it would not come to a good conclusion, well, at least not for her. So I declined the invitation and promised to see him the next evening. 

In the meantime, it was a short walk to a small café on Magazine Street for a bit of people watching. I never grow tired of the variations in the mortal world: There are so many body types, hairstyles, facial construction, clothing styles and scents, yes, the scent of each unique form as it passed. My tendency to fall in love or become infatuated with mortals in a most lustful fashion is well documented and while there may be deeper rooted reasons for it, there just as many fundamental reasons why mortals are so appealing. One reason for me is mortal sweat. Oh there are those who would say they don’t sweat, but the truth is that every mortal sweats, even minimally. There’s a special attraction in clean, unaltered sweat – and I won’t even get started on the smell and taste of sweat in the midst of passion.  
But, back to Louis oui? I checked my phone for the time and knew that the boring speeches had surely begun; the chairwoman with her thin, beak-like nose would be hovering here and there, making sure everyone was on point. Truth be told, if it weren’t for the… resultant opportunities, I wouldn’t care if I never attended such functions again. It was so easy to donate anonymously online that formal gatherings seemed redundant. Still, such affairs afforded me the chance to get spiffed up as I like to do, and seeing Louis in formal wear was worth suffering the company of those who cared for little more than what we would contribute. Still, anyone can understand how the whole thing appealed to me as a form of accidental theater. 

Well then, time to introduce the element of surprise.


	3. Contacts

The night moved along and I performed somewhat of a routine circuit through the quarter and to the outlying areas in case any opportunities arose. Over the years it had become a relief not to have to hunt every night; the waning need for such intake as I aged made it more possible to live something of a normal life. That was relative terminology however, for what I am and forever will be is nothing normal, no matter what appearances might suggest. I looped back into the business district, passing by the hidden stairwell that led to the vault where much of our immortal history and various souvenirs are kept – those artifacts which we and not the precious Talamasca have collected and deemed worthy.

I’d been waiting for my phone to ring, but it had been silent. The little gift I’d sent off to Louis surely hadn’t gone unnoticed. The image of him in my mind when he’d gotten the call was as clear as if I’d been there to witness it: Ring Ring, _‘Hm, what’s this?’ (slipping back into conversation as the video clip loads up) (glancing at the phone) ‘I’m sorry, would you excuse me for a moment?’ (stepping to the side, partially afforded privacy by one of the long formal drapes) (what, then all he can do is clear his throat and try to act un-engrossed when he really is) (taking in a deep breath as he puts the phone into his pocket – but you know he has to stand there just a minute longer to compose himself.)_

I laughed softly as I made my way back to the townhouse. Like I said before making the video, it’s nothing he hasn’t seen in person, but giving him that as a ‘wish you were here’ while he was in the midst of such stuffiness was almost unfair. Well, if I were lucky, he’d get done and come to me and demand to see the real thing – or better yet, give me a similar performance. Let me tell you that the thought of him that way is enough to leave me weak and desperately hungry in a way mortal blood could never soothe.

But that never happened.

In fact, I didn’t hear from him that evening at all and no messages waiting when I woke the next evening. This could mean that he was angry with me for the little trick, but that was doubtful. Louis, as I believe I’ve said, is far less volatile than me. He’s quite nonplussed about most things, which often disappoints my capricious spirit. I mean why pull pranks or set up little incidents if they’re not going to get justifiable reactions? I do it anyhow, and will continue to do it (who would expect less?) because I’m who I am, and he’d have it no other way. I’m not talking malicious planning here, despite what my critics might say. Blame my theatrical personality. He’s just not easily affected in the way of mortal embarrassments. When it first became a big thing, I got him Satellite Radio for his car despite his protests that ‘regular radio’, CDs etc., was just fine. One night, I spied him sitting in the car, jamming out to an 80’s station. I mean he had the windows down, singing along, having himself a little concert right there in the front of the Infinity. When I walked up beside him and he saw me, there was no self-consciousness, no startled oops-you-caught-me fumbling, there was simply that smile, grand and inviting. I got in beside him and we sang and laughed well into the coming dawn.

But now, I figured he’d at least have said something about the video, and when I saw him that evening, I gently prompted him. _See anything… unusual at the event?_ No, why was I asking was all he said – and he didn’t say it in a manner of one who’s trying to draw someone into confessing such a stunt. He told me about the chairwoman, who he said actually hadn’t been in attendance. She’d discovered an unknown medical condition and Louis, diplomatic as ever suggested I should give her ill-tempered tendencies a pass.

The next two evenings I didn’t see him. I was getting used to these intervals of separate time and while I longed to have him with me, to be a couple again properly ensconced in our fortress of memories on Royal Street, I wasn’t above admitting that the nights spent apart led to some more harmonious exchanges when we did get together. You see? Stubborn as I am, I’m not above learning.

So the video went without mention, but I’d convinced myself that it was simply Louis being Louis: He was keeping it to himself as a treasure. It wasn’t that he was unaffected or irritated, he simply held it among ‘our things’ as he might do with a letter or scrap of my hair. Some might wonder why we’d bother to hang on to such items – who cares about precious little souvenirs when you have all of eternity to be together and create memories? That’s an ignorant perception. Even if mortals feel they have their whole lives together ahead of them, lovers and best friends want reminders of specific days and nights and times they’ve shared such as movie ticket stubs, a concert program, a leaf pressed from a beautiful day in the park – and we are no different. I save all of his letters and ribbons from his hair among other mementos and he keeps mine similarly. So, I’d all but given up on him saying anything in particular and found contentment in knowing he’d stored it away as such.

  ************

 On what must have been the fifth or sixth night after, he’d come to the townhouse after what seemed to be a most satisfying drink. He greeted me with warm passion in his eyes and a deep kiss that left me yearning for more. But he insisted on a shower first – alone. I furrowed my brow and screwed up my lips in mock anger as he left the room.

Shortly thereafter, my phone rang.

Hm… interesting.

“Hello Daniel,” I said gently. I hadn’t had reason to speak to him in many months and was curious as to his reason for calling.

“Well, you win.” He said without preamble. “I waited to see if you’d call with any feasible explanation, but of course you wouldn’t. I’m sure you do have a reason.”

“Slow down, what are you talking about?” I asked as I leaned on the back of the couch.

“Oh come on, Lestat, everyone knows that line from you means you know exactly what’s in question. I just don’t know why you’d choose to do that to me. Are things that bad in your relationship with Louis?”

“Daniel, first of all, Louis and I are fine, and I’m telling you I don’t know what you’re going on about. What exactly did I “do” to you?”

“For Christ’s sake, Lestat.”

That expression always made me smile for many perverse reasons. “Daniel, really. Calm down. How can I explain something when I’m caught unaware?”

“Oh, you’re funny. So you want me to just go on and on about it then? Rave about how awesome it was for me to get a video of you getting yourself off? Oh yes, let me tell you it was just the best gift ever but I’ll thank you to send such presents to David or Quinn or … whoever next time.”

  *****************

 Now anyone can imagine that my being ‘caught unaware’ is a rare thing, but there I was just so with my mouth hanging open. “Daniel what…” I began to say, but then his words synched with my brain or vice-versa. “Oh… shit.” I let out a short laugh, then another. “Oh, well…” I caught a breath and soberly said, “that, uh, that explains a lot.” I couldn’t give into the laughter I felt when I pictured Daniel’s face as he held the phone. Had I begun, I wouldn’t have stopped all night.

“It explains nothing to me.” He replied, but his tone was softer.

“Daniel… _(don’t laugh, don’t laugh_ ) That video was meant for Louis. You might have expected as much, no?”

“With you Lestat, it’s not beyond possibility that you sent such a thing out randomly. How did it get to me then?”

I could fairly hear him scowling. How indeed? “Hold on a second.” I directed, and then checked the sent items list on my phone. Sure enough, there it was – sent to “Molloy”. I nearly smacked myself in the forehead for instantly realizing that as an “M”, his name was just under Louis’ name in my directory. A gale of laughter threatened once again: What a good thing that it was my personal cell at least and as such, free of business and social contacts that knew me under various names. I can see some official or another at the same gathering Louis attended mistakenly getting the video. I could see him approaching my love discreetly. “ _Excuse me Sir, the gentleman who accompanies you from time to time, may I speak with you about him for a moment?”_ Christ. Now THAT I would have heard about for sure!

“Apparently, your name – is just below the intended recipient. I’m… dreadfully sorry for the, eh, the error. I would ask if you enjoyed it, regardless but something tells me you didn’t watch the whole thing.” I paused and he said nothing. “Did you?”

“You’re really just too much, Lestat. Change my name in your contacts list won’t you? Don’t let it happen again or I’ll presume the next time it isn’t accidental – if this even was, as you claim.”

“Tsk, such suspicion. Don’t worry. I’ll change your name in the list to “AguynamedDanielM” so you’ll be first, way above Louis. Would that be better?”

I could picture his expression changing slightly. Daniel is one of a kind really – not at all like you’d think him to be from what’s written about him. Though if anyone forms opinions of any of us based on what’s written, they may be delusional in the first place. Daniel is multi-faceted as we all are, but on the surface, he’s now a young, professional with a cutting intelligence that is often unseen behind a rather laid back and very sane exterior. Right now he was on the verge of giving into my humor, but he regained his composure. “Why not just Daniel? Do you have to complicate everything?”

Just then of course, Louis came into the room. He toweled off his hair and looked at me quizzically. I held up a finger as the conversation came to a close.

“That’s the procedure, it seems.” I grinned into the mouthpiece.

“Goodnight, Lestat.” He said soberly.

“’Yes, yes, you have a good night as well.” I answered while avoiding the habit of calling him by the last name that had inadvertently caused the erroneous dial. It was just too much. I burst into laughter and bent, my hands on my knees until it subsided some. When I stood up, my sides hurt and there was Louis, brows raised with piqued curiosity. Honestly that expression and the thought of Daniel getting – no, the thought of Daniel watching the clip and asking himself why I sent it was enough to get me laughing again. Oh damn. I was my own worst enemy, wasn’t I?

“Lestat?” Louis voice, calm as ever. “Everything alright?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t speak yet. From the desktop, I moved the computer over to the coffee table and motioned for Louis to sit on the sofa. “Just, there’s something you need to see.” Some part of my brain was high and still laughing hysterically, but my voice was only slightly staggered as I found the video. I mean what a joke it was on me that the reason he hadn’t reacted is because HE hadn’t even gotten the damn thing! Such perfect humor was never a waste and I was as amused as a child who’s learned a magician’s trick.

“What is this?” He asked as he smoothed back his sleek, wet hair. “Who was that on the phone?”

“Later, I’ll explain. Just… just watch this. I think I’m the one that needs a shower now… or something.” That something was a moment to gather myself because as comical as it all was, this was still my Louis. There was still the underlying fact that I wanted to see his reaction to the performance, even if it would be totally different than what he may have felt in the other setting.

I nodded and he reached down to click play. I slipped into the bedroom with one last shake of my head. This life at times was stranger than fiction.


	4. Chapter 4

A shower wasn’t really what I needed, and time to compose myself wasn’t a necessity. I could have stayed right there and watched right alongside him, but no. Within a few minutes, I leaned against the doorframe and took in the sight of him as he took in the sight of me. Words cannot describe with any accuracy just what it is to observe Louis: In our early nights together we would walk the city and in sheer amazement I would pause and let him meander ahead just for the opportunity. To this very night I’ve not lost my fascination with the way he moves and more wholly than that, with the total fluidity of his being. Every posture and motion seemed deliberate and yet was in no way stiff or uninviting. In fact, it was the complete opposite and as much as this was my private delight and observation, other immortals and many a mortal had been witness to the concert of his body, mind and soul. Do vampires have souls? That depends on who you’re asking I guess, and maybe more on which vampire you’re observing. That one there sitting on the couch? I wish you could look at him for yourself and see it shining through his eyes. Just now as he’s watching this video of me that was meant as a surprise joke at an inappropriate moment, there is nothing but an equal fascination on his face. Anyone else might have scoffed and shut down the computer before giving me yet another ‘what am I going to do with you?’ talk. But the thing is… Louis always knows just what he’s going to do with me: He’s going to love me.

“I guess it would have been wrong of me to send it to you in the middle of the reception.” I said as I crawled up onto the soft cushion next to him. “Everything happens for a reason, right?”

“This is,” He paused.

Mere seconds – the breath between his being there virtually in that screen with me, watching every curve of my body that he’s touched a thousand times, and being in the same room by my side. That interval of priceless, suspended time was beyond words.

“Everything happens for a reason, yes.” He gave me a slow, easy smile. “I’m glad you didn’t send it. I’d much rather get riled up watching it with you by my side.”

“Is that what you are, Louis? Riled up?” I teased him. I moved his hair away and kissed the long, smooth length of his neck in a familiar gesture. Before he could become further ‘riled’, I sat down into the back of the couch. “Daniel was pretty riled too when I mistakenly sent the video to his phone rather than yours.”

That got his attention in a whole different way.

“Wait… Daniel, but how would… Oh God, Lestat.”

His face changed, softened, concentrated and lifted. It was a slow motion study as he imagined my plotting, imagined me making the video and Daniel’s face when he received it. Louis has a great sense of humor, but many see him as stoic compared to me and that’s not a fair comparison at all. I am theatrical and some might say, even contumelious – let’s narrow it down and say I’m brazen and quite amused by myself, shall we? My humor is very often puerile, quick and cruel. But Louis’ humor like most things came with some forethought. It built from someplace deeper, and so it was that it crested and rolled forth in a great wave of laughter.

“You sent this to his phone?”

I nodded and bit my lip. “That I did.”

“Oh Lestat. He must have just...”

“He may have, I didn’t ask him.” I raised my eyebrows suggestively. “Probably not though. He seemed more irritated than aroused.”

Louis rolled to one side and laughed even harder. I leaned against him and ran my hand over his thigh. When he sat up once more, he shook his head. “What am I going to do with you?”

I let the coincidental line pass without comment. “I don’t know. You might consider that to be an instructional film?” I said with a gesture toward the laptop.

“Do I need instructions after all this time?” He said as he slid over and moved so easily across my chest to kiss me.

“Ah well, when you’re riled up you know… not thinking straight and all that.” I laughed softly against his lips. His hand wandered lower and I closed my eyes. “Okay, maybe you don’t need instructions after all.”

“No, please, feel free to tell me in detail.” He mouthed against my ear.

And for the rest of the night, that’s just what I did.


End file.
